The Murdoch Express
by Demosthenes23
Summary: While on a train bound to B.C. for Jasper's wedding, an unfortunate event transpires and The Murdoch's must deal the best they can.
1. In The Chill of The Night

During the last week of winter, The Murdoch's were on a train bound for British Columbia. They were on their way to see Jasper, Murdoch's half brother. He was to be married in a few days time to an accomplished poet named Lucille Plath. Julia had insisted that they read some of her work. While she had been very impressed with it, Murdoch had not, but pretended like he had. The fact was that had never been a lover of poetry and didn't really know what constituted a good poem versus a bad one. His mind had always been much more analytical in nature and he simply couldn't compute such free flowing verse's with any real sort of clarity. Even some of the hymns from his church were fairly mystifying to him. All of that was neither here nor there. He wasn't the one marrying her so it didn't really matter what he thought of her work.

It had now been two days since they left Toronto and already Murdoch was going a bit stir crazy. He liked to be out and about, cycling around the neighbourhood and putting the pieces of a puzzle together. Since he couldn't do that, he was busy working away at a new invention of his, one that he planned on giving to Jasper as a wedding present. The device would be able to dispense powder over a large area, making it much faster to find fingermarks at a crime scene. He was almost finished it and since he had already devoured the medical journals he had brought along, he dreaded what he'd do with himself once he was.

Julia had no such concerns. She was still happily occupied with consuming her most recent science fiction novel. This was another by H.G. Wells called The Island of Doctor Moreau. From what she had told him, it sounded absolutely horrific and ridiculous and so he had no interest whatsoever in reading it. He was a little embarrassed and unnerved that she was so fascinated by the concept. For who in their right mind would find talking animals interesting?

Murdoch found the confines of their room to be too stifling and so he was once again fiddling away at the dispenser on one of the dining hall tables, to the annoyance of the waiters and the curiousity of others. His most ardent follower was a little boy of about four years of age. He had a very inquisitive mind and was constantly poking his chubby fingers at the contraption as he asked a myriad of questions. His mother once again came over to apologize for the intrusion.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Murdoch," said the dainty woman. "His father, God rest his soul, was always tinkering away at things and I fear he can't help it."

"It's quite all right, Ms. Wexler," said Murdoch. "I find curiousity to be a most admirable trait."

"Well, I'm sorry all the same." Turning to her son, "Come along Benjamin. Leave Mr. Murdoch alone."

"I don't wanna!" he whined.

"None of that boy," she said sternly. "Your dinner is getting cold."

"Oh fine," he grumbled. "You're no fun mommy."

As Ms. Wexler led Benjamin over to their table once more, he stole a few pining glances back at the device and consequently Murdoch. It was then that Julia came in and sat down across from him.

"Little Benjamin bothering you again, William?" she asked smirking.

"On the contrary, Julia, I think he's a fine lad."

"Yes, I quite agree with you."

There was a brief lull between them as they watched Benjamin eating his roast beef and potatoes. The silence was filled with the sounds of the patrons and the rumble of the train on the tracks. Then Julia brought up a well worn topic between them, that of adoption. They had both already decided that they wanted a child. The only question had been in relation to when. They wanted to adopt when they were both guaranteed some time off so that they could get properly acquainted with their child and make them feel at home. As a result, the process had been continuously delayed since there had been an uncharacteristically high rate of murders during the winter, a time that traditionally was rather slow. This was because there had been little snow this year; it was normally only after the thaw that all the bodies buried beneath it came to light.

"Would you like to finally adopt a child once we get back to Toronto?" she asked.

"Yes, Julia, I think it's about time we did so. There may never be a perfect time to do so, so there is little point in waiting any longer."

"My thoughts exactly. Who knows?" she said smiling, "we might get lucky and find another Benjamin just for ourselves."

"I would be very pleased if that were to happen," he said also smiling, "very pleased indeed."

They had a lovely dinner together and then Julia decided to go to bed early. Murdoch stayed out in the dining hall to continue labouring on the dispenser. The area thinned out until it was just Murdoch and one of the waiters.

"We're closing up this car for the night, sir. Do you mind taking that...thing somewhere else?"

"Of course," he said and started placing all his tools in a bag. As he was doing so, he briefly looked out the frost encrusted window and into the black of night. Without any real point of reference to use, he couldn't be certain that the train was slowing, it was more of an instinct. Within a few more seconds, it was very apparent that this was indeed the case.

_This isn't good. We aren't scheduled to make another stop until morning._

As the train came to a screeching halt, he shared a look with the wide eyed waiter nearby. Then the lights went out, plunging them into utter darkness.

"Oh my God!" the man shrieked, "What's going on!"

Murdoch then experienced an icy feeling shooting all throughout his body, that of dread but also of cold. Someone had turned off the heating system and because the train was so poorly insulated, it took an immediate effect on him so close to the window. It was possible that there was simply a mechanical failure of some sort and that they would shortly be back on line. But he didn't think it likely. For why would everything have stopped working at the same instant?

He grabbed his bag and slowly made his way towards the front of the steam locomotive where the engine, fuses and heating apparatus lay. Eventually he could go no further for the hallway was clogged with paranoid passengers meandering about worriedly. He back tracked a bit to check on Julia, she was still sound asleep although she had begun to shiver a bit. Murdoch decided it was best to wake her up.

"Hmm," she muttered, "is it morning already?"

"I'm afraid not," he said seriously.

His tone of voice must have alerted her to the fact that something was wrong and she shot upright in her bed, the sheets sliding off her body and exposing her to the growing chill.

"Why is it so cold?" she asked quietly, pulling the sheets up around her shoulders. "Wait a minute? Have we stopped moving?"

"The power's out and yes we have stopped moving. And no, I don't know why but I intend to find out. You better get dressed. I have a bad feeling about this."

"William," she said anxiously, and he put a finger to her lips.

"Just get dressed Julia," he said, puffs of air forming, "before you freeze to death."

Before he exited their cabin again, he grabbed his winter coat and gloves and quickly put them on, his fingers already becoming numb with cold. Then he heard shouting in the distance and the sound of people running. He stuck his head out of their room and was met with an unwelcome sight. There were four men making their way through the area, each with a grain bag loosely on their heads. Holes had been cut out so they could see and two of them were carrying a lantern aloft as well as another bag. The other two men were armed with rifles and were standing guard of the weaponless ones. They had split up into pairs and were systematically going from room to room. By the sounds of it, they were ransacking them.

Julia was still nowhere near being dressed properly and he told her to hurry. Just as she had finished, the door to their cabin flung open and a faceless man holding a lantern stood in the doorway. This was rather unsettling so Murdoch continued to block his path.

"Step aside buddy, if you don't want to get hurt."

He didn't want to risk anything unnecessarily so he did as the man told him.

"Good evening, darling," he said to Julia, tipping an imaginary hat to her. "Don't be alarmed, we'll be gone before you know it."

He placed the lantern on the table and began rummaging through their things. The other man entered their cabin and therefore it was quite cramped now. Murdoch would only have attempted to disarm him if it had just been the one man and Julia hadn't been nearby. It was times like these that he wished he carried a service pistol with him.

The first man finished going through their things and had only taken their money and the jewelry that Julia was to wear at the wedding. That was until he saw her rings.

"I'm going to need you to hand those over too, honey."

"No," she said sternly, whipping her hand behind her back, "you can't have them."

"Julia," said Murdoch, "just do as he says."

She brought her hand to her front, slowly took off the rings and dropped them into the bag he was holding out, all the while a scowl crossing her face.

"Thank you for your cooperation, darling." He turned to Murdoch and made him relinquish his wedding ring as well. Then he picked up the lantern and they exited their cabin.

"William," she whispered immediately afterwards, "we can't let them get away with this!"

"What do you propose we do Julia?"

"I don't know," she hissed, "but we have to do something!"

She stormed out of the cabin and he chased after her, grabbing her arm before she got very far.

"Let me go!" she yelled, trying to release herself from his grasp.

"Julia, listen to me!" he pleaded. "I know you're upset that they took your rings but there's nothing you can do about it right now! They haven't hurt anyone yet, so please don't make them start."

She stopped struggling and turned to face him.

"You're right of course," she murmured, "I'm sorry for acting like a child."

"It's quite all right. Let's go see if we can speak with the conductor and other staff so that we can assess the situation."

"All right, William, lead the way."


	2. The Search Continues

As they were approaching the front of the train, flashlight in hand, it soon became apparent that they were not going to be able to speak with the conductor and crew. Two armed guards stood watch outside their car and were illuminated by a lantern on the floor beside either of their feet. They stiffened to attention when they first saw them and one of them pointed his rifle in their direction, causing them to halt immediately and Murdoch to reflexively bar Julia's path.

"You best be on your way now," said the masked man not holding the gun up. He had a southern drawl.

"Have you hurt the conductor and crew?" inquired Murdoch.

"Oh, they're right as rain," said the man, "but they're a bit tied up at the moment."

Murdoch could almost hear the smirk that surely was spreading across his face at that instant. "Why have you turned the heat and power off?" he asked. "Surely that wasn't necessary?" Then he frowned and said ominously, "There are children aboard."

"Necessary, no, but unsettling and attention grabbing, hell yes!" Then he laughed a bit. "I'm sure the little tykes will think of this fondly when they're older. It'll be a little adventure for them to tell their friends and family about."

Neither Julia nor Murdoch responded to that.

"Now really, mister, I must insist that y'all get on out of here."

Neither of them budged.

"Let's not make this more unpleasant than needs be. Think of this as a business transaction and y'all are our clients. If we work together, the job gets done mighty fast. If we don't, well, that's neither here nor there. Now go on, get, before I start to get angry. I'd hate to harm a hair on such a tasty biscuit's head."

Julia scowled at that and Murdoch led her away from there. When they were out of earshot, she quietly fumed for several seconds. And then it was back to business, the uncooperative kind.

"I don't suppose there would be an armoury on this train?" she said.

He shook his head. "I doubt it very much, Julia. This is a passenger train, there wouldn't be any need for one." She was about to retort to that when he said, "But it's possible that someone has a weapon here that hasn't already been confiscated. If we can find it, maybe we can turn this situation around."

Julia nodded her agreement and then they began going door to door, asking if anyone had a gun. Murdoch started introducing himself as a detective and flashing his badge, hoping that would help matters and get people to trust him. Finally, they succeeded in the task. An elderly lady had a small handgun hidden on her person and gladly handed it over to them as she had been too afraid to use it herself. Murdoch felt ridiculous with it in his hand, like he was holding a toy gun. Just to make sure it was indeed real, he popped open the clasp and saw that it was loaded with real bullets (there were only two mind you but it was better than nothing). Doubt allayed, he closed it back up and slipped it into his pocket.

Now he had the difficult job of getting the drop on the two guards. If he approached directly, they would simply see him again and stop him like the last time. The only way he would be able to manage this by himself would be if he attacked from behind. And the only way in which to do that was to go outside and climb on top of the cars until he was passed their location. So that is what he attempted to do, leaving Julia behind and feeling guilty about it.

Even with his leather gloves on, the cold was seeping through and numbing his hands, making it difficult to grab hold of the ladder. Once he managed to get on top of the first car, he almost immediately fell off for it was slick with ice. After he steadied himself, he surveyed the area with his flashlight and saw six horses off to the side of the train, tied up to nearby trees. Even they seemed to be getting chilled in the night and Murdoch felt badly for them but there was nothing he could do about them at the moment. He was also able to ascertain that they were stopped in the middle of nowhere or at least it appeared that way. It was hard to tell as there were tall trees surrounding them from all sides. He hunched over and slowly tip toed along until he was certain that he was where he wanted to be. He lowered himself down and looked behind him to find several men tied up on the floor and gagged. They started making noises when they saw him so he put his finger to his lips and they quieted down. Murdoch was about to begin untying them when he heard loud voices on the other side of the door. He crept up closer so that he could hear just what they were saying through the thick door. Luckily this wasn't a glass door like all the others that connected to each individual car, for it were, he would have already been apprehended.

"... tarnation do you mean it's not there!" yelled the man with the drawl. "It has to be there!"

"We've already checked everything twice and none of them were it." This was the man that Murdoch first encountered.

"Why don't y'all check again then?" Silence for a few seconds. "Oh fine, give me the bags and I'll check." It was quiet for a minute and then, "Oh for Christ's sake! You bone heads must have done a piss poor job of searching the place!"

"That's not true!" whined a third unfamiliar voice. "We searched everywhere already!"

It sounded like a bit of a scuffle had broken out and Murdoch heard someone being slammed into a wall. "When Mr. Hughes tells us something is here," shouted the southerner, "it damn sure is!Look again! And you better find it this time or there will be hell to pay!" He heard several men walking away and then the southerner spoke again, presumably to the man who had pointed the gun at them earlier. "I'm gonna go check on the fellas on the other side of this here door. If anyone gives you a lick of trouble, shoot them."

"Yes, sir," said a man with a gravelly voice.

Murdoch dashed off to the side of the door just as it was being opened and stood where the southerner wouldn't be able to see him.

"How's it going boys?" he asked them. "Nothing to say? Well, that's a shame," he said, laughing, "cause we're gonna trespass on your hospitality for just a little longer. What are y'all looking at?"

The man turned around just in time to see Murdoch step out of the shadows with the gun pointed at him. To Murdoch's annoyance, he simply laughed again.

"You sure you wanna do that mister? Especially considering that there toy you're sporting."

"I am detective William Murdoch of the Toronto constabulary and I demand that you desist in your actions."

"Toronto, huh? We're a little out of your jurisdiction I'd wager."

"Nevertheless, I have a duty to perform and I intend to do so, no matter what."

"Well, that sure puts us unlawful men in a right pickle. We'd be fools to stand in your way." Laughs again.

Ignoring him, Murdoch said, "Drop your weapon and put your hands up." The man did as he was told. "Now walk towards me." The southerner didn't budge. "Do as I say."

"I don't think I will, detective. You're gonna have to shoot an unarmed man."

As Murdoch cursed silently and moved towards him, he heard a sound behind him and whirled around to find the other guard standing there, rifle cocked and aimed at his head, not two inches away.

The southerner was then upon him and grabbed the pistol out of his hand.

"You won't be needing this anymore fella." Then he nodded to the other man and he knocked Murdoch out with the butt of the rifle.

When he came to, he found himself in the dining hall, Julia cradling his head in her lap. He looked around and it appeared that all the passengers were crammed into the space. In one respect this was a good thing because all the body heat was having a warming effect on those present. He noticed Ben and his mother amongst the crowd, as well as several other children. Murdoch didn't like the implications of this situation and he stirred hastily, feeling dizzy as he did so and passing out briefly again.

"William," said Julia softly, "are you all right?"

"I'll be fine, Julia. Just give me a moment to steady myself." He slowly sat upright and said, "Why are we all in here?"

"I don't know, they just forced us in here and left again."

Before he could say anything else, the door to the car opened and the southerner came through, with the other men in tow.

"You're probably wondering what's going on. Am I right, folks?" There were some murmurs of ascent. "Well, I guess it's about time I told y'all. Seems we're having trouble locating something and well, we'd be mighty grateful if y'all helped us find it."

"What is it?" shouted someone from the back.

"I like your attitude mister! Straight to the point!"

The southerner retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it around. When it got to Murdoch, he saw that it was a sketch of a rather ugly looking piece of jewelry. He couldn't fathom why anyone would want it. He passed the paper along and when it reached Ms. Wexler, she reacted ever so slightly. Unfortunately it was enough to alert the southerner to the fact that she recognized it.

"Why ma'am, by all means, speak up! Don't be shy now!" She looked away and didn't respond. "I'm starting to get impatient ma'am. Bad things happen when I do. Still nothing to say? Grab her boys and see if we can't do something about that."

They moved towards her and several nearby men tried to intervene, that is until they pointed their guns at them.

"Leave my mommy alone!" shrieked Ben as they pulled her away from him.

"It's okay Benjamin," she said in a shaky voice, "everything will be just fine."


	3. The Search Ends

Murdoch anxiously waited as the minutes crept by and still Ms. Wexler had yet to return. He hoped she was all right. They may have been thieves and scoundrels but he was pretty good at judging a persons character and didn't think they'd stoop so low as to actually torture her for information, especially when there were witnesses in the vicinity. But he couldn't be certain, hence his anxiety at being powerless to stop whatever was befalling her.

After the first thirty seconds elapsed, he and Julia went to go sit by Benjamin and tried to comfort him as best they could. No doubt he didn't fully understand the current situation they were in (indeed, none of them really did) but nevertheless he was visibly very upset. What children lacked in understanding, they made up for by reading the emotions of a room, an ability that usually diminished with age but sometimes remained intact. Murdoch was not one of those select few who retained this heightened sense in adulthood. This wasn't surprising for he himself was incredibly emotionally stunted, always had been and still was even in marriage. It was the price one paid for being severely traumatized as a child. So the question remained, would Ben suffer the same fate if things took a dark turn?

Once ten minutes had passed by, Murdoch found that he could not sit idly by any longer. Unfortunately as soon as he moved towards the door, the guards left on duty stirred and aimed their guns at his head. He raised his hands in defeat, turned back and sat down again, Julia giving him a sympathetic look as he did so.

Finally the southerner and the other two men who had dragged Ms. Wexler out returned, however she did not. The goons marched straight over to Ben and tried to grab him but failed in this task. Moments before he had clamped himself firmly to Murdoch's chest and would not be budged, nor would Murdoch allow them to touch him.

The men began to raise their weapons but the southerner intervened. "Oh just let the pair of them come then. It really doesn't make a lick of difference to me if he does."

So Murdoch stood up with Ben the leach in his arms and together were led out of the relative warmth and into uncertain waters. They traversed the train for quite some time until they came to one of the private cabins. Murdoch assumed it belonged to Ms. Wexler but it could have been anyone's. She didn't appear to have been man handled in any way. She was simply looking down trodden and cold.

"Benjamin!" she exclaimed when she saw him.

"Mommy!" he shouted happily, releasing his grip on Murdoch and frantically trying to get over to her. Murdoch obliged him and handed him over to her. Ben immediately buried his face in her bosom.

"You'd think the little tyke hadn't seen her in years!" said the southerner laughing. "Well now that the happy reunion is over and done with, we can get down to business once more."

"You leave him out of this!" Ms. Wexler demanded of her captor. "He has nothing to do with any of this!"

"That may well be the case honey but you have yet to give us what we want. I figure that you need a little incentive to help you make up your mind. So what will it be? Will you tell us where it is or do I have to threaten little Benjamin's life?"

She didn't respond and the southerner sighed. Then he pulled out a revolver of his own and pointed it close to the child's head. Ms. Wexler went as white as the virgin snow just outside and Murdoch involuntarily moved forward, but his path was barred by the two guards.

"Look what you're making me do, honey, I really don't appreciate this very much. So why don't you save yourself some heartache and just tell us where it is?"

"Fine!" she yelled. "Hand me that valise over there by the window."

The southerner did so and Ms. Wexler opened it up and then felt along the insides of the lining until a small click could be heard in the utter silence of the room. Everyone seemed to have baited breath, Murdoch included. She took one look inside the secret compartment and if it were possible, went even whiter than she previously had been.

"I don't understand," she muttered slowly, brow furrowing.

"Honey, you better not be telling me that it ain't in there," said the southerner dangerously. "This whole things already taken mounds of time longer than it should have and I've just about lost my patience."

"It should be there! I put it there myself!"

"You're either a real good actress or you're telling the truth. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt...if you solve this mystery for me real fast. So tell me honey, who else knew about it?"

"That's just it! No one else did! Except for my husband and..." Her eyes darted to her son momentarily and she cringed at her mistake.

"You think little Benjamin here moved it, is that it?

"It's possible that he could have found it," she conceded. "He does like to play with my things all the time."

"Why don't you ask the little tyke then? Go on."

Ms. Wexler lifted his head up gently and looked into his eyes. "Benjamin, did you take Mommy's toy from here?"

She held up the valise so he could see what she was referring to. He looked away rapidly and buried his face in her bosom again.

"Benjamin," she said carefully, "it's all right if you did. You're not in trouble. Mommy just needs to know what you did with it."

He looked up again and whined, "I didn't take it!"

"Is that the truth son?"

"Yes! I didn't even know it was there!"

"Well, there you have it," she said to the southerner.

"This puts us in a right pickle, honey," he said quietly. "Now we're back to square one which leads me to believe that you must have hidden it somewhere else."

"She didn't!" squealed Ben. And then he pointed at the man in the hallway and said, "He took it!"

The southerner whirled around and glared at the man there, beside Murdoch. "Is this kid telling the truth Matthew?"

"No of course not!" said the man with the gravelly voice. "Are you really gonna take the word of a child over me?"

The southerner didn't respond and seemed to be silently sizing him up. All of a sudden the man moved as if to level his rifle at him but Murdoch grabbed the gun and yanked it upwards, the shot going astray and into the ceiling. He knocked Murdoch's hand away and then took aim again but it was too late, the southerner had already shot him clean through the heart. The shots made a horrific sound in the enclosed space of the train and as a result caused Ben to start crying. His mother rocked him in her arms, whispering that everything would be all right.

"I suppose I have to thank you now, detective," said the southerner after things had quieted down a bit.

Murdoch stared at him and said, "I was trying to prevent any unnecessary bloodshed and protect the boy from witnessing an atrocity."

"Oh the little tyke will be fine. He'll forget all about this in a week."

Murdoch was getting very annoyed with this cavalier attitude towards the well being of children and vowed not to respond to the man unless absolutely necessary.

The southerner barked at the other man standing idly by. "What are you doing? Search the traitorous bastard why don't you!"

The man hurried to comply with his request, but fumbled around for the first few seconds as he was likely afraid of what would happen if the item was not on the dead man. After a minute of frantic searching, the man dug something out of a deep recess in the dead man's pocket.

He held the object up to the light and said, "It's just like in the picture!" Then he handed it over to the southerner to inspect.

"Thank God! Now we can get the hell out of here! I'm freezing my ass off! Tell the men that we're leaving."

"Of course," said the man and left the area.

"So I guess this is goodbye everyone. It was a pleasure doing business with y'all."

They didn't respond, he started laughing and then tried to exit the room but Murdoch blocked his path and eyed the dead man's rifle.

"That's not a very wise thing for you to do, detective."

The deadly revolver glimmered evilly in the half light and Murdoch silently cursed his powerlessness as he stepped aside.

"That a boy. You know your place."

The southerner hunched over and scooped up the fallen man's weapon and then headed down the hallway.

As soon as he was out of ear shot, Ms. Wexler jumped up and said to Murdoch frantically, "You have to stop him! He must not be allowed to leave with that!"

"What do mean ma'am? I thought it was simply an antique piece of jewelry."

"It's not jewelry at all, Mr. Murdoch! It's a key!"

"Oh?" he said raising his eyebrows. "And what does it unlock?"

"I don't actually know but my husband told me to keep it hidden at all costs shortly before he died! I fear his involvement in all of this led to his death! We've been on the run ever since!"

"Why not go to the police?"

She laughed bitterly and said, "They wouldn't have been able to protect us! No one can! Once you're caught in the Black Hand's grasp, you never escape alive!"

That was enough information to satisfy Murdoch's curiousity for the time being and he was on his way as he had wasted enough time. Unfortunately he needed to make a pit stop before he encountered the masked men once again. He just hoped he wasn't too late to stop them.


	4. Clear and Present Danger

He headed towards the front of the train where the horses had been tied up. Near the end of the line he heard voices discussing what happened to Matthew. It sounded like the conversation had almost reached it's conclusion and therefore they'd be leaving shortly, so Murdoch boldly stepped up to the plate and faced his adversaries head on.

"This guy just don't know when to quit," said the second man from the hallway.

"Do you have a death wish, detective?" inquired the southerner politely. "I think I've been damn reasonable up till now but you're pushing your luck."

Murdoch didn't respond.

The southerner laughed and said, "So that's your brilliant plan? To be a dummy for target practice?"

The other men laughed as well but no one raised their guns at him, most likely deeming him a non-threat and not worth the time.

"Come on boys, let's go."

They turned their backs on him in order to leave and then he cleared his throat, making them face him again. By their feet was a small contraption, in truth it was the powder dispenser that Murdoch had been meticulously working on for the past several days. It was making a faint ticking sound and the southerner stared at a smiling Murdoch for one second and then watched as the dispenser erupted like a volcano spewing a dark powder everywhere and on everything.

There were fits of coughing and screams of, "I can't see! My eyes, they're burning!"

During this chaotic confusion, Murdoch wasted no time in disarming his opponents, one by one. Once he had dealt with three of the men, one of the remaining armed ones started shooting wildly in his temporary blindness and nearly hit Murdoch, instead he got the man behind him and a loud groan could be heard followed by a thump as he hit the ground. Murdoch swooped in and with some difficulty relieved him of his weapon.

Finally the only person left to disarm was the southerner but he was nowhere in sight! Murdoch saw a trail of powder laced boot prints headed in the direction of an outside door. He was making a run for it! Murdoch assumed that he was likely moving slowly as he was mostly blinded at the moment so he couldn't have gotten far. So rather than immediately going after him, he sprinted to the conductor's chambers with the four rifles in hand, dropped them on the ground and began untying one of the hostages, explaining the current situation as he did so. Then Murdoch grabbed a fully loaded rifle and ran after the southerner, leaving the crew to fend for themselves but giving them more than a fighting chance this time.

Murdoch jumped into the thigh high snow of this untamed wilderness, gun in hand and scanned the area for any signs of his final adversary. He spotted movement in the distance and started slowly making his way over there, eventually finding the path that they had previously made and speeding up his approach sizeably.

The southerner noticed him at that point and fired off a shot in his direction, coming uncomfortably close to his body considering he couldn't possibly see him too well at the moment. Murdoch unloaded a few rounds at the southerner in order to dissuade him from shooting at him any longer. This tactic seemed to be effective until he realized that he had only stopped momentarily as he untied and mounted his horse. Then the southerner charged at him, revolver at his side and Murdoch dove into the snow as another shot was fired and the horse came careening past him. As the southerner slowed down and swivelled his horse around, Murdoch ran the remaining distance to the other horses. The southerner fired another two shots at him and when he missed both times and Murdoch returned fire, he kept on moving and began leaving the area. Murdoch pulled himself onto a black stead which would make it harder to spot in the darkness and so be less of a target.

Murdoch charged after the southerner and was almost hit in the face by the grain sack he had been wearing previously. The wind must have blown it clean off. The southerner cocked his head sideways to observe his progress. Murdoch still couldn't make out his features in the gloom of the area and at such a distance.

The southerner reached a narrow pass and had to slow down, giving Murdoch time to gain on him and another opportunity to fire a couple of shots. He was completely off as he wasn't skilled at shooting while mounted. If he had had a lasso, now that would have been a different story. As they both slowed to a crawl in the thickening woods, the southerner sent another round blasting past his head. By his calculations, the southerner only had one shot left. The question was whether or not he had additional ammo on him and if he did, could Murdoch catch up to him before he reloaded?

While the southerner was more skilled at shooting from a horses back, Murdoch was more skilled at riding. Therefore it wasn't long before the gap was being closed. The southerner was taking very careful aim now, which Murdoch assumed meant that he didn't have any additional ammo on him. It also meant that Murdoch was in big trouble. Murdoch began firing away in a last ditch effort but was still coming nowhere near his intended target. The southerner smiled as he pulled the trigger and Murdoch's horse made a loud neighing sound and then immediately crumpled to the snowy ground, throwing Murdoch clear and into a nearby tree.

He picked himself up quickly even though his side was searing in agony and took the time to line up one last shot before the southerner would be out of range. Murdoch fired and it looked like he had finally struck pay dirt. Unfortunately he was mistaken and the man continued on, Murdoch watching him miserably as he disappeared into the night.

There was however some good news. Murdoch had seen the southerner's face and could now track him down the old fashioned police way. Mind you, this news had an additional unwanted element to it. Since Murdoch _had _seen his face, the Black Hand would likely be coming for him as they knew his name and they didn't like to have loose ends. The question was, who would catch who first?

It took Murdoch twenty minutes to get back to the train and as a result, by the time he did he was quite drenched from the legs down and had begun to shiver violently.

"William!" exclaimed Julia as he approached her. She ran over to hug him and they embraced very briefly for she quickly realized his current undesirable state.

"Get changed immediately before you catch pneumonia," she said authoritatively.

He noticed then that her hands were bloody and he wondered why that was.

"I w-will in ju-just a second Ju-ju-julia," he chattered out. "Wh-what happened to your h-hands? Are you all ri-right?"

"Oh this?" she said holding her hands up. "This is nothing. I was tending to one of the men who was bleeding out. He may have been a scoundrel but I couldn't stand idly by and watch him die."

Once he was in fresh clothing, he felt a million times better. No doubt having the heat and power restored was a great factor in this. The crew had managed to easily apprehend and tie up the gang with the same ropes that had been used against them. As an added precaution, they were now being stored in the dining hall since that was one of the only places that could be locked from the outside. A couple of the crew members were also standing guard outside with the rifles.

The conductor came over to shake his hand at that point and profusely thank him for everything he did.

"There's no need to thank me, sir, I was just doing my duty."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" the portly man said. "Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't intervened! And now we really must be on our way again."

Murdoch realized something else at that point.

"What of the horses?" asked Murdoch. "Surely you don't intend to leave them here?"

"It's already been taken care of detective. They've been loaded onto the back."

"Thank you, sir." A short silence. "I'm going to need you to stop at the next town."

"Of course, detective, I was planning on it myself."

While the train started moving again, Murdoch got access to the telegraph aboard and had the telegrapher send out a message to the constabulary in this area telling them what had transpired here. He also identified himself and asked for permission to take the lead on this case. After waiting a while, he got a response back and they said that they'd be delighted to let him as they'd read all about him in the paper.

With that out of the way, he had another unpleasant telegraph to send. It was a message telling Jasper that he would likely not be attending the wedding after all. There had only been about a days worth of leeway between when they left Toronto and when they arrived in B.C. So unless Murdoch solved this case within the next twenty four hours, there was no way he would make it there in time.

After this was completed, Ms. Wexler came over and said, "I assume this means you weren't successful in retrieving the key?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Oh this is terrible!" she said downtrodden, head in hands. "I failed in the one task my husband entrusted to me!"

"It's all right, ma'am, I intend to right the ship."

"I pray that you do, for all our sakes."


	5. The Calm Before the Storm

They could have stopped in Killarney, Manitoba, (which was the next available town along the tracks), except that it was so small that there was no constabulary there. Instead they continued on until they reached Brandon. Since this was also the place that Murdoch had retrieved telegrams from, it all worked out quite well.

As soon as the train stopped, half the passengers hurriedly evacuated as if they were still afraid that something bad would befall them. Murdoch wondered how many of them would actually return to continue their journeys. At least their valuables had been returned to them. Sorting out how much cash belonged to each individual person, now that was an entirely different matter, one that Murdoch had wanted no part of. He had delegated the task to a trustworthy crew member instead.

The inspector himself had come down to oversee the transport of the prisoners. He shook hands vigorously with Murdoch exclaiming all the while what a big admirer he was of his. Murdoch endured this with polite dignity until the inspector finally seemed to be finished embarrassing himself. Unfortunately Julia took that inopportune moment to introduce herself and then the man started fawning over her as well in a very inappropriate manner, which forced Murdoch to firmly insist that they get on with it.

All the robbers were locked up within two small cells, all except for one, which Murdoch was currently interrogating while the inspector and Julia watched from the sidelines. The first man didn't divulge any information, neither did the second nor the third. However the final man was the one whom Julia had patched up, saving his life in the process, and perhaps it was because of this that he felt an obligation to help them. However, though he was willing, he was rather uninformative. If anything, he only served to make the situation more complicated than previously thought.

"What is the name of your leader, the southerner?"

"Daniel Baldwin."

"And where would he be right now?"

"I really have no idea."

"How could you not know? Surely you were going to drop off the key to a specific location?"

"Key?" Jacob said with convincing confusion. "That old thing was a key?"

"You didn't know?"

"I only know what I'm told and no one ever said anything about a key to me."

"All right, then tell me about Mr. Hughes."

"He's the man who hired us, or rather, Daniel. I never met him myself."

"Hired you? I thought you were working for the Black Hand?"

Jacob's eyes widened at that. "The Black Hand? Are you telling me that asshole got us mixed up with them?" Murdoch gazed at him intently. "Oh God! And I've been spilling my guts to you! If they find out, they're going to do that literally!"

"I assure you that won't happen."

Jacob apparently didn't hear him. "Oh God! I almost died already today! Take me back to my cell right now! I'm done talking!"

There didn't seem to be any point in arguing with him and besides which it seemed likely that Jacob had already divulged the only useful information he knew. With a name to go along with the face, surely it would speed up the process of locating Daniel exponentially? There was only one way to know for sure so Murdoch put a telegram out to all constabularies that Daniel could have possibly reached by now. He detailed as best he could just exactly what Daniel looked like via that form of communication. On top of that he had several sketches made up and sent to the various police stations. It wasn't long before he received many responses back and now it was simply a matter of time before someone spotted him.

In the meantime, he and Julia took a stroll through the area, though this ended up being rather brief as it was still dark out so there wasn't much to see and it was also very cold. They decided to take refuge in a hotel for a few minutes before attempting the walk back to the precinct. But once they felt the warmth again, they didn't much care to go back out and since neither had gotten much sleep, opted to get a room. However, apparently many from the train had had the same idea and there were no more available rooms. Disappointed, they started to leave but then Ms. Wexler approached them, cup of coffee in hand.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I'm afraid that there are no more rooms available," said Murdoch.

"You can have mine then," she said. "I can't sleep anyways."

"That is very generous of you, Ms. Wexler, but we couldn't possibly accept."

"Nonsense, Mr. Murdoch, of course you can." Murdoch was about to refuse again when she said, "Are you really going to deny your wife a chance to rest after she was elbow deep in a man's blood?"

He shared a look with Julia who was smirking and he said, "I suppose not."

On the way up to her room, Murdoch took the opportunity to ask her something that had been bothering him.

"Ms. Wexler, you said before that the Black Hand was behind this, but I'm curious, how did you come to that conclusion?"

"My husband told me of course."

"And how did he discover this?"

"From what I understand, he was hired by them as part of a team to build something."

_They seem to be doing an awful lot of that recently._

"Your husband voluntarily took up work for them?"

"Don't be ridiculous! He had no idea who they were at the time. It was only after he had completed his portion that he discovered the truth about his employers. That's when he ran, taking the key with him so that they could not access his work."

Murdoch was disturbed by this revelation. It meant that the Black Hand had built something terrifying enough that Mr. Wexler had given his life in order to stop. He silently ruminated on this topic until they reached the hotel room, coming up with more and more horrific ideas along the way and knowing full well that he would have trouble sleeping now.

Benjamin was fast asleep in the middle of the only bed that was present. Murdoch was happy to note that he appeared to be having pleasant dreams after the traumatic events of the day. He didn't want to disturb his slumber by moving him somewhere else (besides which, there was no where else_ to_ move him) but felt it would be inappropriate to share the bed with a child that was not his own.

Seeing his hesitancy she whispered, "It's fine, Mr. Murdoch, go on and use the bed. If I don't mind, Benjamin certainly won't. These are unusual times, so unusual things are expected to happen."

Julia shrugged her shoulders and began removing her winter clothing. They didn't have their pyjamas with them so they climbed into the bed on either side of Ben wearing their day attire. He stirred slightly, opening his eyes momentarily but then went back to sleep. For the second time in the last five hours, he wished Ben was his son. Being so close to him only served to intensify his yearning for a family of his own. He hoped this case would have a speedy end so that he could finally make this dream come true. But he quickly dissolved this delusion for he knew that wouldn't be the case. Whenever the Black Hand were involved, was there ever truly an end?

Ms. Wexler sat in a chair in a corner with a lantern turned down as much as possible and opened up a book, sipping her coffee from time to time. Even though he had thought it impossible given what he had just learned, Murdoch found himself quickly drifting off into an exhausted slumber. Maybe it was the soft glow the lantern was casting or the quiet, peaceful breathing of the boy, but whatever it was, Murdoch was extremely grateful when his eyes began to droop and he experienced dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

In the morning he awoke to find everyone asleep, including Ms. Wexler and found Ben snuggled up against his chest. He soaked in the experience for a little while before moving away slowly and getting a start to his day. None of his toiletry supplies were with him so he grabbed his coat and headed out.

On the way there he spotted a constable jogging away from the train. When the young man saw him however, he changed direction and Murdoch stopped in his tracks, anticipating new information about the case.

"Excuse me, sir but do you know where I can find a detective Murdoch?"

"I am he."

"Oh that's great!" he exclaimed, relieved. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Did you have something to tell me?"

"Yes, sir, you're wanted immediately at the station house!"

Then they both began jogging towards their destination. The inspector saw him and waved him over to his office.

"What have you, sir?"

"They found your man, detective," he said slowly, "just outside of Morden."

"That sounds like good news, sir, so why do you sound so forlorn?"

The inspector eyed him and said, "He had a rather large hole between his eyes."

Murdoch was disappointed by this news but not surprised. Now he had no leads for figuring out where the Black Hand were hiding. He was back to square one and the clock was ticking down until they decided to unleash whatever it was that Mr. Wexler had been so afraid of. The question was, could Murdoch stop them in time?


	6. Into the Lion's Den

The body of Daniel Baldwin was promptly brought in to the town of Brandon. And so it was that Julia was performing an autopsy on him before the morning was through. The hope being that she would uncover some obscure piece of trace evidence that would lead them towards the correct path again. In the meantime, Murdoch had been speaking to Ms. Wexler, also trying to uncover some piece of information that could be of use to them.

"Do you have any idea where your husband would go off to when he was working for the Black Hand?"

"A little. I know it must have been a local affair since he would come home every night."

"And where do you live?"

"In Thunder Bay."

That was a fair distance away but hardly insurmountable. If Murdoch took a train, it would take no more than half a day to get back there. But with nothing else to go on, he wasn't about to hop on the next one. So he patiently waited while Julia conducted her own investigation, spending the time teaching Ben about trains, or twains as he called them. He was a very astute pupil and before long, they had run out of things to cover.

"You're very good with him, you know," said Ms. Wexler after the impromptu lecture. "You remind me a bit of my husband. I-"

Her voice caught and she looked away, pretending to be occupied with her book again. Murdoch decided it best to leave her alone then and went to check on how Julia was faring.

"What have you?"

"He was shot at close range with a shotgun," she said, shaking the bullet fragments in a little glass dish.

"Yes, I can see that," he said, grimacing at the amount of damage to his forehead. It was fortunate he hadn't been shot just a little lower down, for if he had, they would have never been able to identify him and the case would have been dead in the water.

"There were no signs of a struggle," she said.

"So he wasn't expecting this. Sounds about right. Anything else?"

"There was also this," she said, holding up something with her tweezers. "I found it wedged within one of his boot soles."

Murdoch took it from her and held it under a magnifying glass in order to examine it better. "If I'm not much mistaken, this is concrete."

She nodded and said, "Yes, I came to the same conclusion as well."

He looked at her quizzically, "But why does it have a blue sheen to it?"

"This particular blend had a rather unique additive."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Scoria."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Isn't that made during a volcanic eruption?"

"Why am I not surprised you knew that?" she said smiling. Murdoch began frowning and Julia said, "What's the matter, William? Why do you look so puzzled?"

"Well, Julia, for one thing, this was on _Daniel_'s boot. What good does this concrete do us in determining where the Black Hand are currently situated?"

"Maybe the concrete was dislodged from the killer's own footwear and Daniel stepped on it before he died?"

"Hmm, I suppose that is a possibility. Say you are correct. There's still another issue with this clue." She waited for him to continue. "There are no volcanoes anywhere near Thunder Bay."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"That's where Ms. Wexler hails from and where the Black Hand is most assuredly operating out of."

"Maybe they had the Scoria shipped in from somewhere else?"

"But why, Julia? Why not simply use materials in the area?"

"Maybe they liked the way it looked? It is very pretty. And from what I can recall from our previous encounter with the Black Hand, they were always very stylish."

"No, I don't think that's it. The colour was of no importance to them. I think they wanted it for it's scientific properties. It can withstand extreme pressure and heat and makes an incredibly good insulator."

"This certainly makes you wonder what they've built."

"Yes, it certainly does, Julia." There was a short pause. "Thank you for your help."

"My pleasure, William."

Another brief pause. "I doubt we are going to discover anything else of use so I should probably go make travel arrangements." He saw the look she gave him. "I'd prefer if you didn't come with me. This is going to be very dangerous."

"I thought you'd say something like that. Take some constables with you then. And do be careful," she said concerned, taking his hand.

"Of course," he said squeezing it.

* * *

After sending a telegram to Jasper informing him that he would definitely not be attending his wedding, Murdoch watched as his wife, Ms. Wexler and her son waved to him from the platform. He returned the gesture, swallowing a lump in his throat, hoping he would be seeing them all again. Murdoch and his fill in constables (dressed in plain clothes) discussed what they would do once they arrived at their destination. Once the details had been worked out, there was little else to do and he found himself pacing back and forth, anxiously awaiting whatever was going to happen.

It was dark once more by the time they got out of the train and took a carriage down to the bay. The constabulary there was mostly shut down for the night but there were a few poor souls left on duty. Murdoch approached the desk clerk and asked for use to a phone, flashing his badge as he did so. The man of course let him through and Murdoch placed his first call, one of many.

He wanted to determine if there had in fact been any shipments of Scoria made to this area in the last several months. If this was the case, perhaps he could unearth the Black Hand's lair? Murdoch had to wake up a few people but in the end he reached a satisfying conclusion. A large shipment of Scoria had been unloaded down by the docks about three months ago. Unfortunately, no one seemed to know where it had gone to from there.

Murdoch and his entourage talked to everyone they could down there until they found someone with some useful information. He seemed to recall a train of wagons stealing off into the night about the time they were referring to. He had been interested enough in this that he had followed it as far as the edge of the town's limits. After that he had given up and headed back to duty.

Murdoch grabbed an available man from the constabulary there to act as their guide and together they took carriages up North. They searched for hours but even with the aid of multiple lanterns, couldn't find any sort of building or encampment that could possibly be housing the Black Hand. They headed back after this failed attempt and Murdoch crashed on one of the local constables couches for the rest of the night.

* * *

In the morning, the search began anew and they travelled much further away than the previous time. Eventually they came to a complex of sorts, it was quite massive and had a large wooden gate barring the entrance. Murdoch assumed that it was a fort that was out of commission. The question was whether or not this was the Black Hand's lair. He couldn't very well go up and ring the doorbell. So Murdoch scanned the area with a pair of binoculars from a safe distance back, the other members of the constabulary standing by, awaiting further orders.

Nothing happened for several minutes and Murdoch began to suspect that this wasn't the place they wanted. Right then though, a guard appeared on the upper walkway with a rifle in hand. Murdoch knew that he wasn't a member of the Canadian military because his clothing was not correct. He was dressed in a fashionable suit. Murdoch followed his progression around the part of the outer perimeter that he could view from his stationary position. No other people made their presence known and the guard eventually came around again to where Murdoch could see him. It seemed that he made his rounds every five minutes or so, which would be just enough time for them to travel to the fort before being spotted. Of course, once they got there, what were they going to do?

They couldn't get in through the front entrance, and there didn't appear to be any other way inside. Murdoch had not come prepared to lay siege.

"I think we should just go," said a nervous sounding constable.

"You're such a coward Perkins!" exclaimed another man. "I say we take the place by force!"

"How exactly would we do that!" whined Perkins.

"I don't know!" yelled the other man. "But I'm sure we can figure something out!"

"Quiet both of you!" commanded a third man. "Can't you see the detective is trying to think?"

In fact he was, deep in concentration, accessing that special place in his mind that would allow him to see things from a different perspective and solve whatever obstacle he was currently wrestling with. Unlike previous times, this semi-meditative state of mind was not helping him come to a solution.

There was no choice but to head right up to the gate and try to get in that way, however futile it might be. When he informed them of his intentions, Perkins balked at the idea.

"I of course do not expect everyone to attempt this with me," said Murdoch. "It will likely be a fruitless mission and possibly dangerous. Whoever wishes to remain behind may do so."

Any that had been thinking of remaining behind no longer seemed to want to do so. Perhaps they feared their peers ridicule would be worse than anything that might befall them in the coming minutes. And so it was that the entire entourage headed towards the fort.

"State your name and business," called the guard authoritatively when he came around the bend and spotted them.

"I am detective William Murdoch and I would like an audience with whoever is in charge."

The man stared at him passively and made no move to comply.

"Is that so? Funny then that you have so many men with you for a simple conversation."

Murdoch didn't respond.

"Do you have a search warrant?" he asked.

"Do you have a right to be here?" countered Murdoch. "This is military property and you are clearly not associated with them."

The man smirked and said, "Oh you got me, detective. I guess I have no choice but to open the gate now."

Again he didn't lift a finger. Instead he began lazing against his rifle in apparent boredom. Finally he said something else.

"I'll tell you what, detective. I'll go speak with my superiors and if they agree to a meeting with you, I'll let you through."

"That sounds fair to me," said Murdoch.

The guard nodded and vanished from sight, he must have gone down a nearby set of stairs. Murdoch and his team patiently waited for ten minutes before the guard next appeared.

"I'm surprised. They've agreed to see you. But _only_ you, detective. The rest of your men must leave the premises before I'm allowed to raise the gate."

There were murmurs of outrage at that statement but Murdoch calmed them down.

"If this is the only way we're getting in there, then so be it. This is too important to turn back now."

They grumbled as they turned their carriages around and left the vicinity. Then the gate began to rise and Murdoch awaited his fate with baited breath. He also began fervently praying that everything would be all right.


	7. Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Before he was allowed entrance, he was forced to hand over the pistol that he was carrying. He had expected no less but felt utterly vulnerable without it, and not for the first time, wondered why he was going through with this. The answer was always the same. Even if the Black Hand had gotten what they were after, they would likely think there was still a score to settle with Ms. Wexler and possibly even her son. And since he greatly desired no harm to come to them, he had made a hasty and foolish decision. He knew he should have regrouped back in town and tried to come up with a proper plan. However, what's done was done and now he'd just have to manage the best he could.

The courtyard was all but vacant except for a few armed men wandering around. Whatever they were working on was clearly being stored in another part of the fort. The men cast curious glances at them as they passed by but Murdoch paid them no mind. The guard led him up a spiralling flight of stairs at the far side of the complex and before long was knocking on a door.

"Entrare," said an old European sounding man.

The guard held the door open for Murdoch to reveal a small alcove of sorts, packed full of ancient looking books and a man to match them. Murdoch had rarely come across a person as wrinkled and withered as this man, and so was a bit surprised that this was the man in charge. The guard made a move as if to station himself nearby but the old man waved him away saying something in Italian that sounded like 'uscire.' The guard continued to hesitate but then turned around and left them alone.

"I see by your previous look that you were expecting someone a little more vitale?"

Murdoch simply nodded.

"I assure you that I am still master of my mente." He smiled, "Il camminare, now that is a different story. This," he said patting the side of his wheelchair, "has been my friend these past many years."

It was then that Murdoch noticed how small and shrivelled up the man's legs were even beneath the fabric of his fine suits trousers.

"Comunque, my name is Mancini. It is nice to finally be meeting you in person, investigatore. I have heard many things about you since you interfered in our affairs with Signorina Fulford." Murdoch frowned at the mention of his almost love. "Oh I know she has changed her name, complimenti of you no doubt. You will be happy to know that we have not found her yet, but I expect that will change sooner or later. It is difficult to truly severe the legami che legano, or so I have found."

Murdoch didn't respond.

"Well aren't you a ciarliero one?"

Murdoch didn't respond.

Mancini smiled again and said, "I wonder how a man such as yourself so carelessly entered tana del leone. What was it you wanted so urgenza?"

"I think you know very well." The old man observed him through gleaming eyes but said nothing. "I have it on good authority that you've been working on something illegal and highly dangerous."

"Cos'è questa cosa?" he murmured. "And you received this information from...Signora Wexler herself?"

"Why else would you be out in the middle of nowhere, protected with a fort no less?"

"The country air is wonderful for my reumatismo." Murdoch was not amused. "Così serio! Let us be getting on with this. We have built something, that much is true but I hardly consider it cause for such concern." Murdoch raised his eyebrows at that. "You don't believe me? Venga con me!"

He didn't know what that last part meant but it didn't matter because the old man began wheeling himself towards the door and Murdoch followed him. They stopped at the edge of the stairs and for the briefest of instances, Murdoch contemplated pushing him down. As soon as he thought it, he felt repulsed with himself and silently asked for forgiveness.

Mancini whistled louder than Murdoch would have thought possible and within seconds two men were traipsing up the stairs and carrying him down, wheelchair and all. Their progress was slow but eventually they were resting him on the level ground, so gently, that it was as if they revered this man more than anything else in the world. Perhaps they did.

The old man led Murdoch into a side chamber that was narrow but extremely long. It appeared to traverse the entire length of the fort. Originally it had been a dining hall as evidenced by the column of tables that stretched across the room. At the end of this area, there was an enormous elevator that clearly had been built quite recently. Murdoch estimated that it would be able to hold upwards of twenty people, either that or something quite large and heavy. Possibly something made out of concrete?

At this thought, Murdoch couldn't help but ask, "Why did you have Daniel killed? Surely that wasn't necessary?"

"Of course it was, investigatore," he said as he accessed the lift. It began making its way up creakily to their floor. "As I'm sure you already know, we do not like loose ends and Signor Baldwin was quite ciarliero. And since he had been here before...well you can see how that was a problem for us."

_So that explained how the concrete got on his boot!_

"How can you be so cavalier about a man's life?"

The elevator arrived but they didn't get on, instead the Italian cocked his head and said, "Perdonami, investigatore, I am not familiar with this word."

"How can you care so little?" Murdoch inquired as he opened the two sets of doors.

"Ah, I see now," he said wheeling himself on in. "It is just business, nothing more. If you had grown up in the village that I had, you would not think my behaviour strange."

Murdoch didn't see the point in arguing with him so he simply entered the metallic box as well and closed the double doors. Mancini pressed the bottom button (for there were only two present) and they slowly descended to the basement level, the noise much more jarring once within the contraption.

When they reached their destination, there were more guards waiting for them just outside their doors. At first they pointed their guns at Murdoch but the old man waved them away and they parted so that they could pass. The underground tunnel was dimly lit with strings of lanterns on the rock walls and paved only with the dirt that nature had crafted millennia ago. Mancini led Murdoch along the path for a little while. When they came to a fork, he veered right and they continued on to find the area becoming brighter. It was not the normal illumination that one would find in such a place, indeed anywhere. There was an eerie bluish glow coming from scores of tiny points along the ground at uneven intervals. Some were larger than others but none were bigger than the size of a hand. Murdoch finally realized what it was.

"Scoria."

"Precisamente!"

As they entered further into the cave recess, Murdoch saw a large object towering ten feet high and four feet across. It was a gigantic box. He began to feel apprehensive again as Mancini went over to it. The Italian retrieved a familiar looking key from his pocket and inserted it face down into an identical grove on the side, turning it clockwise twice before a clicking sound was heard. Mancini pushed on the side, it opened up sideways and Murdoch came over to see what the terrible secret was.

He stood there awed and confused for several moments, trying to understand what was going on. In front of him was a large phosphorescent statue! While it was luminous like the concrete bits scattered around, the effect was much grander when concentrated into one massive area. Therefore it was quite stunning and Murdoch was at a loss for words as he witnessed the beauty of it. Had Julia been right after all? Was this all they had been up to?

"I see you admire our fine craftsmanship. It is not surprising to me. Signor Pelloux is quite the sight to behold!"

"Italy's current Prime Minister?"

"Proprio così. He is a great, great man. I wished to honour his legacy and that is why I had this everlasting replica made of him."

"But why all the secrecy if this is all you were up to? Why this elaborate ploy?"

"It is not every day one sees a glowing blue man, investigatore. I wanted it to be completed first before anyone bore witness to its majesty."

Murdoch wasn't buying what he was selling. It was all too strange to believe. Who did he think he was? So Murdoch began investigating the statue at close range, looking for anything out of the ordinary, some sign that would explain why Mr. Wexler had been frantic to keep this under lock and key.

After ten minutes Mancini broke the silence and said, "Are you satisfied yet? It is as it appears, investigatore, there is no hidden segreto."

Murdoch eyeballed him and said, "Then perhaps you can explain why Mr. Wexler stole the key from you in an effort to prevent this from ever seeing the light of day?"

Mancini sighed and said, "Ah, what a sad story. That poor deluded man! I'm afraid he inhaled too many chemical fumes throughout his life and sadly lost his mente as a result! He was convinced demoni were everywhere!"

While Murdoch knew such a thing was possible, he didn't think it likely in this case. Something was very fishy here and he intended to find out what. He walked over to a table nearby and picked up a crowbar.

"What are you doing?" asked Mancini suspiciously.

Instead of answering, Murdoch briskly walked over to the statue and raised his arm back.

"Arresto!" the man screamed as the iron bar made contact with the statue's chest.

It barely made a dent and so Murdoch kept hammering away at it, Mancini screaming all the while, until a chunk of concrete fell away from the main body. Beneath was a shiny steel interior.

"I wish you had not done that, investigatore," said Mancini darkly. "I did not wish to harm you. But now..."

The Italian removed a square device from his pocket and pressed a button. Immediately afterwards there was a humming sound emanating from the statue that increased in size and frequency until it was almost deafening. Mancini pushed forward on one of the control sticks and a great crack could be heard above the other sounds. The concrete was breaking apart by the statues legs, revealing more metallic materials. Murdoch began backing away at this point. As the machine moved forward, the concrete completely broke away and Murdoch was facing a steel giant. Instead of eyes, it had bright blue gleaming bulbs that easily pierced the veil of darkness down there and blinded Murdoch in the process. Since he had been backing away, he tripped over a piece of concrete and fell on his back. He stayed that way terrified for a few seconds as the robotic man moved towards him, picking up speed with every step. Finally Murdoch came to his senses and attempted to grab the remote control from Mancini's grasp. The steel giant raised an arm to reveal a machine gun in its place. Several shots rang out in the precise location that he had been heading. Seeing no other option, Murdoch ran for his life.


	8. Endings and Beginnings

The giant mechanical monster was giving off such intense vibrations that the entire underground was rumbling. Murdoch could feel it in his deepest core and it terrified the living daylights out of him. So much so that he was tumbling and stumbling his way through the passageways, trying to find a way out. He headed towards the elevator but saw the guards still present and highly alert. There was no way he was getting back that way so he veered towards the left path and prayed it didn't lead to a dead end. As it turned out it didn't but it wasn't exactly better for his situation. The trail led down and down, deeper and deeper into the dark recesses of the earth. Here there were no more lights and he groped blindly for the wall as he inched along away from sudden death.

Unfortunately moving so much slower had allowed the machine to catch up with him. Murdoch could hear its ton legs stomping ever closer to him. Suddenly the area was illuminated with a bright light, those of the monsters eyes! Murdoch found himself paralyzed to the spot until it rose its machine gun arm and pointed it straight at him.

"Requiescat in pace!" boomed Mancini's voice, somewhere in the vicinity behind the behemoth.

Murdoch dropped to the ground an instant before the shots rang out. However, the steel giant just kept on firing and Murdoch rolled away as fast as he could, that is until he ran out of space. As he hit the wall, he closed his eyes and prepared to meet his maker. Amazingly nothing happened! The gun blasts ceased and he heard an annoyed yell.

"Stupido! Lavaro, lavaro!"

Murdoch wasn't about to hang around while the old man tried to get it working again, so he jumped to his feet and looked down the only available route left to him. For the first time he was able to see what lay ahead and to his surprise saw that there was a steep incline beginning a few feet further. It was possible that it was so steep that the steel giant wouldn't be able to climb up it. With any luck, the creature's own massive weight would be its undoing. Maybe gravity would save him?

Wasting no more time, he launched himself up the severe grade, quickly hunching over in order to keep his balance. Before long he was practically crawling his way up and he felt confident that the beast would not be able to reach him. That is until he heard and saw more shots ring out right beside him; the dirt exploding all around, some getting in his eyes. After he climbed a little higher (in fact it was about as high as the path went; it abruptly stopped at this point), he took the opportunity to clear his eyes and glance back at the scene below him. The Italian was doing his best to get the angle just right but so far had been unsuccessful in this task. Murdoch suspected the man's rather lack lustre eyesight to be the culprit and consequently his saviour. As well, it appeared that the behemoth's arm could only arc so high and it had just about reached its limit. Realizing that the task was futile, Mancini began moving it forward again. Murdoch prayed it would not be able to traverse the incline because if it could, he would surely be gunned down.

The great beast took its first few steps with ease and began positioning the gun at him again. The machine gun was almost aligned and Murdoch knew he couldn't stay there any longer. He gulped as he began sliding down the slope, slowly at first but then faster and faster, directly at the giant! Needless to say it was rather unnerving. Mancini tried to get it to shoot him as he passed but was too slow at manouvering the gun in time. Murdoch passed right between the creatures legs and came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the hill.

Mancini glared at him and started fiddling with the remote control in an attempt to turn the beast around. Murdoch ignored this and marched straight over to him.

"I'd say you've had enough fun for one day."

As they fought over the device, (the old man with surprising vigor) the knobs got knocked around and the steel giant began flailing around in front of them. At one point both its feet got placed backward and without the other to brace itself, gravity was finally too much and it fell backwards. They stopped fighting over the controls briefly as they watched it collide with the ground. A resounding thud could be heard that shook the very foundation of the place and jarred Murdoch's teeth in the process. Finally Murdoch managed to whip the controls out of Mancini's hands, only to accidentally smash it against the nearby wall!

Apparently he hadn't completely destroyed it for the beast continued to twitch around. But then something terrible happened, it began firing directly upwards into the ceiling in an uncontrollable manner. The force of the bullets was too much for the structural integrity of the place and stone and dirt began to rain down upon it. In fact, it began to rain down upon all of them.

Mancini yelped, turned his wheelchair around and started to make a break for it but it was slow going for him up the way back. Murdoch hated to do it but he couldn't just leave him there to die so he got behind the wheelchair and began pushing him to safety. Rocks were falling all around them, some bouncing off of the sides of the wheelchair, one striking him in the forehead and temporarily disorienting him. It was at this moment that a large rock decided to break away and come rolling down the hill. Mancini screamed and Murdoch managed to veer sideways in time. The adrenaline coursing through his body coupled with his strong biker legs allowed him to make it all the way back up in record time. Now that they were on level terrain again, things were much easier going and Murdoch positively zoomed along the path.

Once they reached the elevator, the guards were nowhere to be found so Murdoch quickly operated it. It seemed like it took forever for it to reach them. But this was probably only because they could see the roof collapsing in the not so distant distance. Finally the elevator appeared and they rushed on, Murdoch stabbing at the button. Nothing happened! He jabbed at it again and still nothing happened.

Mancini grabbed his arm and yelled, "The second door! You didn't close it!"

Murdoch felt like slapping himself in the face but refrained and instead corrected his mistake. He pushed the button for a third time and they began ascending upwards. He wouldn't say to safety for he had no idea what was in store for him up there.

After telling off the guards for abandoning their posts, Mancini rounded on Murdoch.

"And you, you bastardo," he shrieked, absolutely livid, "you destroyed my capolavoro! It was a decade in the making and now it's all ruined! I should uccidere you for this!" He took a few deep breaths and almost immediately calmed down. "But as it is, you saved my life. You could easily have left me to die but you didn't. I must now consider us linked with a sacred bond." Murdoch felt dirty at the very notion, even if it was only figurative. "We are even for all time, investigatore. I give you my word that La Mano Nera will never come after you again." He eyed Murdoch here, "Provided you do the same."

"As long as The Black Hand exists," said Murdoch solemnly, "I can make no such promise."

"Then I'm afraid we may be at odds once more sometime in the future. And now it is time for you to be on your way, investigatore, before I change my mente."

Murdoch didn't need to be told twice so he hightailed it out of there, all the while wondering just how much Mancini's word truly meant.

Back in Thunder Bay, he formulated a fool proof plan to get inside the fort and apprehend all of The Black Hand. Unfortunately by the time Murdoch and the other constables got back there, the place was deserted!

* * *

Half a day later, he arrived exhausted back at the town of Brandon (along with the other constables of course). It seemed to him to be mostly deserted but that was likely only because he had never seen it without all the train folk meandering around. Apparently most of them had decided to continue their journeys and he was glad, for there was no reason to have not to.

He reported in to the local precinct and not surprisingly the inspector was overjoyed at his safe return. After listening to his fawning for several moments, Murdoch contemplated excusing himself. However, he never got the chance because the inspector's demeanor changed drastically and he became serious for the first time since Murdoch had met him. The sober man told him to take a seat and Murdoch dreaded what was coming.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, detective, but, well, something horrible happened while you were away." Murdoch waited impatiently for him to spill the beans. "Ms. Wexler was shot a few hours ago." Murdoch felt like punching something but instead sat still, silently fuming. "Your wife did everything she could but...I'm afraid it was too late. I'm so sorry for your loss."

_Mancini! I'll get you for this!_

Murdoch thanked the inspector for the information even though he felt like screaming. He walked briskly to the hotel where he had previously learned that Julia was.

She opened the door, whispered, "William," and collapsed into his arms. They remained that way for some time until he heard the faint sounds of crying in the background. Murdoch released his grip on Julia and headed over to Ben, kneeling down beside him on the floor.

"Mr. Murdoch!" he exclaimed, grabbing Murdoch tight.

"I'm so sorry Benjamin," said Murdoch softly in his ear.

"She's gone!" he cried utterly devastated. "I want my mommy back! It's not fair, it's not fair!"

In response Murdoch simply held him tighter until he was all cried out. Afterwards they put him to sleep and went outside the room so that they could discuss the situation without fear of waking him up.

"The poor child," said Julia, shaking her head. "He watched his mother die and now he has no parents. He'll never be the same again. It's truly horrific."

"Indeed. I would not wish this fate on anyone."

"What is to become of the boy?"

"I suppose we'll need to find a relative capable of taking on this responsibility."

"And if there is no one?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

* * *

A few days later Ms. Wexler was laid to rest beside her husband's grave. And a few hours after that, Murdoch was faced with the unpleasant task of approaching the relatives and asking if they'd be willing to take on Ben as their own charge. Ever the practical one, he started with the most promising candidates, and when they didn't pan out, focused his attention on the others. Eventually he came across a great-aunt of Ben's who had never had any children but had always wanted them.

So it was with a heavy heart that Murdoch introduced the two.

"Benjamin," he said quietly, "I'd like you to meet your great-aunt Felicia."

"Hello," said Ben equally quiet, giving her the once over.

Felicia came over to his side and held his hand. "I'm sorry to be meeting you under such circumstances, Benjamin, but I have a feeling we'll be great friends from here on out."

"What do you mean?" he said while looking at Murdoch.

"You're going to go live with Felicia now."

Ben looked utterly shocked at the notion. "I don't wanna."

"It's all right child, I'll take good care of you."

"I said, I don't wanna!" he shouted, causing others to stare.

"Benjamin," said Murdoch soothingly, "I know you're probably scared of going to live in a new place. I know I was and I was much older than you. But if you pretend to be brave for just a little while, I think you'll find you had the courage within you all along."

"I'm not scared! I just don't wanna go with her! She smells funny! Like dog poop!"

Felicia gave him the stink eye and muttered, "Why I never!"

"That was very rude, Benjamin," said Murdoch sternly. "You can't speak to people like that."

"I'm sorry!" he hollered and grabbed hold of his leg. "Please don't be mad at me daddy!"

Murdoch and Felicia shared a look and then she stormed off.

"Why did you call me that, Benjamin?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

Silence for awhile. Timidly, "Do you like me Mr. Murdoch?"

"Yes."

"I like you a lot!"

"That's nice of you to say."

"So will you be my new daddy?"

Epilogue

"How do you like your new home, Benjamin," asked Julia once they had arrived back in Toronto.

"It's really big and it's pretty and it's...cool!"

"I'm glad you like it, son," said Murdoch, savouring the word once again. "Would you like to go explore the city now?"

"Yeah!"

"Will you be coming as well, Julia?"

"I'm afraid I'm too tired. Please don't stay out too long or you'll catch cold."

"Don't worry so much," Murdoch said and then kissed her on the cheek. He was positively beaming as he scooped up a happily shrieking Ben and propped him on his shoulder. "Come along Benjamin, there's no time to waste!"

And so it was that out of all the sadness and heartache, a glimmer of hope had been found. Murdoch's dream of many years had become a reality. He finally had a family to call his own, and what a family it was!


End file.
